


All Together Now

by Benjamin_Winter



Series: Young Hearts: Original, Romantic Erotica [3]
Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous Smut, High School, Informal, Loss of Virginity, Modern, Oral Sex, POV First Person, Smut, Teen Romance, Teenagers, Vaginal Sex, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 08:41:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8884369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Benjamin_Winter/pseuds/Benjamin_Winter
Summary: A high school teen and his longtime sweetheart finally embrace his unique trait.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone who gives kudos has my heartfelt thanks. I do read all comments, so feel free to leave one.

          My name’s Ethan. And I’m a freak.  
  
          No, I don’t mean in the sheets. I’m a virgin.  
  
          I’m two people. Not, like, possessed by a demon or anything. There’s me, and then there’s Leftie.  
  
          I guess I should start from the beginning. This might sound a bit sad at first, but just wait. It gets good.  
  
          I’m epileptic. Well, I _was._ I started having seizures when I was seven years old. _Bad_ seizures. Sometimes I’d have ten of them in one day. Got lots of busted lips and broken noses. It got so bad that, eventually, there was just no other option. I needed surgery. But not just any kind of surgery. _Brain_ surgery. Now, this might sound a little grisly, but, again, just wait.  
  
          So, when I would have a seizure, these “seizure signals” would fire from one side of my brain to the other, across my _corpus callosum,_ the sinewy bundle of neural fibers that connects the hemispheres of the brain. So, the surgery I had, it was called a _corpus callosotomy_. That bundle of fibers, the corpus callosum? My surgeons cut it. Snipped it like a piece of cloth. It went the way of my foreskin. The mean men in white took it away. All jokes aside though, my brain is no longer one whole. It’s two halves. The two hemispheres of my brain hardly communicate anymore.  
  
          I’m eighteen as of three months ago, and you might think I’ve been living disabled after a surgery like that. Nope. I’ve never been better. I can hold conversations, run in marathons, and I haven’t had a seizure in almost ten years. I’ve got a 4.2 weighted grade point average. I’ve got a scholarship. I’ve even got a beautiful girlfriend, Chloe, that I love. But … there is one problem.  
  
          My right hemisphere, the half of my brain that got severed from the other half? It’s not dead. It’s alive, and it’s got a mind of its own.  
  
          I have _alien hand syndrome_. It sounds like science fiction, I know, but it’s real. Google it if you don’t believe me. Basically, my left hand, the hand controlled by my estranged right hemisphere, it moves completely of its own accord. Hell, it’s got its own personality. If I try to grab an apple, my left hand will smack it away and reach for the banana instead. Grabbing a Sprite? Nope. It grabs the Mountain Dew instead. Listening to Arctic Monkeys _?_ It’ll switch it to Foo Fighters _._ My left hand is an opinionated fucker.  
  
          But hell, as much as I sometimes want to kill Leftie, we make a pretty decent team. We can go hiking in the Rockies together, we can play Halo, hell, we can even _masturbate_ together (though our differences in taste lead us to clicking away from each other’s porn constantly). It’s fucking crazy, I know. But there’s one major problem we’ve got, one page that the two of us just can’t seem to get on, and that’s with Chloe.  
  
          Does Leftie hate Chloe? No. I’m pretty sure it loves her just as much as I do. The problem is, well … okay, let’s go back a year or two. See, Chloe and I got together a year and a half ago. We were just friends at first, for two months, but that didn’t last long. I knew early on that I loved her, and the same applied for her. Now, as seniors in high school that’ve been dating for a year and a half, you’d probably think Chloe and I would be fucking like rabbits. And if it were my choice, it’d probably be something close to that, yeah. But it hasn’t happened. Like I said earlier, I’m a virgin. Chloe is too.  
  
          Chloe, her and her family, they’re a religious sort. Like, _really_ religious. Church every Sunday, prayers before meals, all that stuff. Her family thinks my surgery and recovery was a miracle of God. Personally, I’m more grateful to my surgeons than I am to God. But Chloe’s on the same train of thought as her family: _‘no sex before marriage.’_ She’s a good Christian girl. She wants to wait. Honestly, I don’t think God would care one bit, but it’s what Chloe wants, and I love her, so here we are. Besides, it seems like Chloe’s getting closer to taking the plunge. She knows I love her, she knows I think we’ll only be happier afterwards, and I think that’s starting to take root in her. She’ll come around, and I’m fine with waiting until that day comes. But the problem I was talking about earlier? Leftie doesn’t want to wait. It’s _horny as fuck_.  
  
          When Chloe and I hang out, she just has to accept the fact that she’s going to experience a few unsuspecting gropes. Leftie _loves_ being touchy-feely with her. If she doesn’t want it copping a feel and honking her boobs, she has to sit on my right side, at all times. And that’s not all Leftie does. It grabs her tits, it swats her butt, it does anything and everything sexual that is within its power to do. On one occasion it even managed to sneak attack her and got under her pants and panties. Yes, the one time I touched Chloe down there, and _I myself_ didn’t even do it. Fucking Leftie got to third base sooner than I did.  
  
          But when Leftie does do shit like that, Chloe just blushes and brushes it off. She knows I can’t help it, and she knew I was like this when she started dating me. This is what she signed up for. As much as I wish I was normal, I’m not, and somehow, Chloe’s okay with that. She loves me for the weird fucking freak that I am, and I’m convinced she’s the only girl in the world who would.  
  
          So that’s my story up to now. It’s December 26 th, 2015. The day after Christmas. Winter break of my last year of high school. It’s freezing cold outside. -2 Fahrenheit, I think. A typical winter in Colorado. Denver’s smothered under a thick blanket of white snow. It’s a few hours into midday, and the sun’s already on the horizon. Chloe’s coming over to spend the night, as she often does. And if you’re wondering, _yes_ , we do share a bed when we spend nights together, _yes_ , we do dress down into pajamas, and _yes_ , I have poked her in the tailbone with my erection before. It’s kind of crazy how intimate Chloe and I are without actually having sex.  
  
          When the doorbell rings, I hurry to the door to open it and greet her. She’s wearing a comically ugly red-and-green Christmas sweater and gray sweatpants. Flecks of snow are hanging on her thick lashes, and she has a heavy, black smoke around her hazel-green eyes, with a thick eyeliner and mascara just how she knows I like it. Her long, light-brown hair is weaved up in a crown-braid, with her ponytail sitting on her shoulder. If you don’t know what the hell a _‘crown-braid’_ even is, don’t feel bad, because I didn’t know either until Chloe showed me. Basically, it looks how it sounds. That’s Chloe’s thing, spending hours weaving her hair into these exotic braids I’ve never seen. She cuts her hair herself, too. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’m one of the few people in the world that gets to touch her hair. It’s kind of an honor.  
  
          “Hi, Ethan,” she says to me, smiling.  
  
          “Hey.”  
  
          I close the door behind her in a hurry, trying not to let too much of the heat get out. Chloe puts her arms around my neck and takes me into a kiss. She has to stand on her tiptoes to reach me. I sigh and put my hand to her hair. I can smell her perfume on her, pleasantly light and airy. Of course, never failing, Leftie slips under her sweatpants and grabs a handful of her tight butt. Chloe laughs as I grab Leftie and yank it back. “Sorry,” I mumble. _‘Sorry’_ – I must’ve said that a million times since we started dating. I’m surprised it’s not Chloe’s alert noise for when I text her. It should be.  
  
          We make a brief stop in the kitchen, where Mom gives us both mugs of hot cocoa, and we head to my bedroom. When I shut the door behind her and turn to Chloe, she’s already jacking her phone into my stereo and flipping on Pandora. I sit in my recliner and she sits with me, in my lap. I manage to trick Leftie into being the one tasked with holding the mug of cocoa. No more unwanted groping. Not for a while, anyways.  
  
          We spend a good fifteen minutes or so sitting together, sipping our cocoa quietly. I down my mug pretty quick – I’m a pig like that. Chloe rests her head against mine and cuddles close to me, and I’m grateful for her warmth. Even with the house’s heat on full blast, it _still_ manages to be chilly in my room. I guess that’s Colorado for you.  
  
          “Did you get what you wanted for Christmas?” Chloe asks me sweetly.  
  
          God, I love the sound of her voice. It’s light and raspy, almost ashy, and it manages to be adorable and incredibly sexy at the same time. If silk had a sound, Chloe would be it. Wait, what did she ask again? Oh, right.  
  
          “I already have everything I want,” I tell her as I peck a kiss on her lips.  
  
          She melts at that, giggling cutely.  
  
          Then, a moment later, her tone changes. “ _Everything?_ ” she asks.  
  
          Her eyes give me this strange look. It’s a look of unease, regret, love, and lust, all rolled into one. It’s a look I’ve seen before. This has been Chloe’s routine the past few months. She tiptoes around that line I want to cross, the line I’m convinced _she_ wants to cross. Is she waiting for me to give her that extra push? I don’t know. I don’t fucking know. I wish I did.  
  
          Some John Mayer song comes on Pandora. Chloe puts her soft hand to my clean-shaven cheek. “I love you,” she whispers to me.  
  
          “I love you too,” I whisper back.  
  
          I almost want to try it, right here, right now. We both want it. I know we do. But I’m nervous. I’m scared.  
  
          Leftie throws my empty mug aside and slips under Chloe’s sweatpants, caressing her bare, inner thigh. I grab it to pull it away, but Chloe puts a hand on my chest and stops me. “It’s okay,” she says. Her legs open a bit more as Leftie runs further up her thigh with every stroke, closer and closer to her panties. Just as it’s about to brush against them, Leftie slips back out of her pants and pulls Chloe towards me, straddling her onto me. She drops her mug onto the floor and spills her cocoa, but we don’t even notice. Our eyes, hazel and brown, are locked. Our breath, slow and heavy, synchronizes. Leftie snakes its way under her sweater, up her back, to the straps of Chloe’s bra. A few tweaks later and the straps pop, and Leftie pulls out her bra. It’s pink.  
  
          Leftie grabs her sweater and I help it pull it up over her head. Chloe has a white shirt under it, but before Leftie and I do anything, Chloe’s pulling that off too. Her breasts fall from her shirt with a bouncy drop. I don’t dare to touch her at first, but Leftie does. It grabs her left tit and grips her firmly, and I follow its lead, grabbing her other boob, squeezing her flesh under my fingers. Chloe lets out a cute whimper as we fondle her, massaging her perky breasts. She gasps when Leftie gives her pink nipple a quick tweak, and I follow suit. A minute later and Chloe’s nipples stiffen into hard little nubs.  
  
          What’s Chloe’s cup size again? I don’t remember. It doesn’t matter, anyway. Whatever the number, they’re perfect.  
  
          Leftie doesn’t stop there, and it brings her right breast to my lips. I know what it wants, and I do just that. I take her tit into my mouth and suckle it, and flick her nipple with my tongue. Chloe’s whimpers turn to moans. Leftie pulls her closer to me, pushing more of her breast into my mouth. A thick dribble of my spit slips from my lips and falls down her boob, down over her flat stomach. Leftie grabs the waistbands of her pants and panties and raises them a bit, just enough for the trail of my spit to trickle down her bare crotch, where it joins her wetness. My cock jumps to attention at the thought of it.  
  
          The door to the bedroom swings open. “Ethan,” my mom says, entering without sparing a single fucking knock.  
  
          “ _Mom!_ ” I shout at her as Chloe’s nipple pops from my mouth.  
  
          “ _Oop,_ ” Mom squeaks. She turns on a dime and hurries out the room, slamming shut the door behind her.  
  
          Chloe and I look at each other awkwardly. She breaks out into laughter. I’m more embarrassed than amused, but I can’t help but smile myself.  
  
          Leftie grabs our bulge, reminding me just how hard we are. Our aching cock is bursting outwards against my jeans, almost to the point of pain. Leftie’s not about to let us stop here, and I’m not either. I bring Chloe down to me and put my open lips to hers, kissing her, pushing my tongue into her mouth. I put my hand to her back and stand up to my feet, and Chloe wraps her legs around my hips. Leftie helps me hold her. We carry her towards the door – which Chloe knowingly reaches for and locks – before taking her to our bed.  
  
          I bump my foot on something at the edge of the bed, and Chloe and I fall onto my sheets together, laughing. I’m laying atop her, with my eyes gazing into hers. Chloe’s got this big, broad smile on her face, but as it fades, her eyes take on this look of innocence and pureness. She wants me to take charge. Before I can, to mine and Chloe’s mutual shock, Leftie rests itself lovingly against Chloe’s cheek, brushing its thumb over her bottom lip.  
  
          I get up on my knees and pull Chloe’s sweatpants down first. When I get them to her ankles, Chloe kicks them off, and I toss them onto the floor. I pull off my shirt in the blink of an eye, and I take my belt out of my jeans and pull them down and throw them onto Chloe’s sweats. As I do that, Chloe puts her hands on the waist of her pink panties and looks as though she’s about to take them off, but she stops, and her hands fall still. Leftie pets her inner thigh again, just like before, comforting her. I put my hand beside Chloe’s, on her panties, and we pull them down together.  
  
          She’s shaved bare. I see a few razor bumps on her, but she’s everything I thought she would be. The folds of her pussy open wide as I lay my eyes on them, welcoming me, blooming like a pink, beautiful flower. She’s sopping wet, with a clear, bubbly fluid frothing from her tunnel. We definitely won’t be needing any lube. That’s good. I don’t have any.  
  
          I lower my mouth towards her pussy, and immediately my nose gets a whiff of her scent, musky and feminine. My cock twitches in my boxers at the smell of it. Leftie gently pulls open her outermost lip, and I put my tongue in her folds and lap up her fluid. It’s salty, almost sour on my tongue, and delicious.  
  
          I press my mouth to the lips of her pussy and slurp her folds, jutting my tongue as far into her as I can reach, dining on her, drinking from her. I push my tongue up against the roof of her tunnel and brush it along every corner I can. Chloe squirms and moans above me. My cock throbs. Leftie slips into my boxers and gives our dick a couple quick tugs. That only makes it ache harder, and my own need for pleasure starts to take over. I could spend all day with my tongue inside Chloe, but that’s not what I want, not right now.  
  
          Leftie and I bring me back up onto my knees. Leftie pulls down my boxers to my ankles and I kick them away. I take my prick in hand, guiding it downwards, and prod it against Chloe’s sticky lips. My cock twitches as a cold rush shoots up my spine. I sigh a ragged breath, and my shoulders shiver. It feels better than I thought it would.  
  
          I almost can’t believe this is happening. I’m getting laid with the girl I love. I’d call it a Christmas miracle, but it’s a day late for that.  
  
          My heart is racing in my chest, but it’s not from fear. I’m not scared, not anymore.  
  
          I’m ready.  
  
          Chloe puts her hands on my sides. Her nails, painted with a pink polish and filed to a fine point, graze against my skin. She opens her legs as far as she can, and she watches me with her bottom lip bitten, waiting for me to give my hips that final push.  
  
          She’s ready too.  
  
          Something tugs at the corner of my mind. Something I feel like I’m forgetting. But I can’t pinpoint it, and with the head of my cock resting against Chloe’s waiting folds, I’m not going to wait until I figure it out.  
  
          I ease my hips forward slowly and gently. Chloe’s wet lips slip open around my head as I push my cock into her. Her pussy squeezes me tight and clings to every inch I push through. She jams her eyes shut, wincing, and bunches up her shoulders. She digs her hands into my sides, white-knuckling her nails into me. It hurts, and it’s a wonder she doesn’t draw blood, but it’s not my pain I’m worried about. I lean down onto her and put my lips to hers, kissing her firmly and lovingly, doing all I can to make her pain stop. Leftie runs through her hair, gentle and tender, soothing her with me. Chloe mingles her tongue with mine, returning my kiss with all the passion in the world. I can feel her shoulders slacken and loosen beneath me, but her soaking pussy still holds me tight, wringing a blissful pleasure out of me.  
  
          I’m at Chloe’s hilt now, with my pubes brushing against her wet lips. I let out another ragged, hollow breath. My cock’s already twitching and jumping inside her, throbbing and pulsing with the beat of my heart. “ _Chloe_ ,” I rasp between our kisses. “I’m not gonna last long.”  
  
          “It’s okay,” she whispers, not letting my lips stray from hers. “Don’t stop.”  
  
          A warmth starts to build at the base of my cock, a pressure that rises slowly, bit by bit. I lean a bit more of my weight down on Chloe. Her breasts squish under my chest, and her stiff nipples poke hard into me. Leftie moves down to Chloe’s sizable rump, grips her cheek, and pushes her ass up into me, letting our cock reach as far into Chloe as it can. I start to well and truly thrust into her, pushing my prick through her snug pussy in deep, fast strokes. I grunt as I crash my hips into hers, rocking her body with every thrust. The bedframe starts to shake and creak beneath us. Chloe opens her legs a bit wider for me, mewling sweetly as I pound her.  
  
          The pressure in my groin erupts into a fiery, blazing heat. An overwhelming bliss floods through me, bringing the hairs of my skin on end, bombarding me with an orgasmic pleasure that has me groaning from the bottom of my lungs. My cock jumps and spurts out its load into Chloe, thick, messy ropes of white that flow through her tunnel and into her womb. Her pussy grips me tight while I cum, holding me firm in its wetness, snuggling my cock with an unending pleasure as it spews more and more of its spunk. But the pleasure’s too much, and I stop my thrusts, letting my cock lay still inside her as it shudders and cums. It feels like it lasts for hours.  
  
          When the buzzing feeling in my skin settles and the bliss fades, I rest my forehead against Chloe’s, breathing heavily.  
  
          “I love you,” she says to me.  
  
          “I love you too,” I tell her back.  
  
          I gather my breath and rise to my knees again, but before I can pull out, Leftie grabs a wad of tissues from the box on my bedside table. Quick thinking.  
  
          I slip my softening cock out of Chloe, and a thick stream of white follows soon after. Leftie dabs up the flow with the tissues as it comes, soaking it up, keeping the sheets clean of the mess I’d made. When the flow finishes, Leftie chucks the now-sticky wad into the wire-mesh trashbin in the corner of the room, hitting nothing but net, as always. I roll off of Chloe and lie down beside her, and she rests her head on my shoulder.  
  
          Chloe grabs my hand from beneath her and coils her fingers through mine. Then, to my surprise, she reaches out her other hand, out over my chest, and Leftie finds her and holds her hand. I look down to Chloe, and she smiles up at me.  
  
          What was it I said earlier? _‘I wish I was normal?’_ Fuck that. Normal is for suckers. Leftie, Chloe, and me, we’re a family ... and I wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
